Indian
Heroes and Great Chieftains
by Charles A. Eastman.
"'Hay, hay, hay! Alas, alas!' Thus speaks the old man, when
he knows that his former vigor and freedom is gone from him forever.
So we may exclaim to-day, Alas! There is a time appointed to all
things. Think for a moment how many multitudes of the animal tribes
we ourselves have destroyed! Look upon the snow that appears to-day
-- to-morrow it is water! Listen to the dirge of the dry leaves,
that were green and vigorous but a few moons before! We are a part
of this life and it seems that our time is come.
"Yet note how the decay of one nation invigorates another.
This strange white man -- consider him, his gifts are manifold!
His tireless brain, his busy hand do wonders for his race. Those
things which we despise he holds as treasures; yet he is so great
and so flourishing that there must be some virtue and truth in his
philosophy. I wish to say to you, my friends: Be not moved alone
by heated arguments and thoughts of revenge! These are for the young.
We are young no longer; let us think well, and give counsel as old
men!" A speech by Spotted Tail delivered at the great council
on the Powder River, just before the attack on Fort Phil Kearny.

It was during this campaign that I was christened Calamity Jane.
It was on Goose Creek, Wyoming, where the town of Sheridan is
now located. Capt. Egan was in command of the Post. We were ordered
out to quell an uprising of the Indians, and were out for several
days, had numerous skirmishes during which six of the soldiers
were killed and several severely wounded. When on returning to
the Post we were ambushed about a mile and a half from our destination.
When fired upon Capt. Egan was shot. I was riding in advance and
on hearing the firing turned in my saddle and saw the Captain
reeling in his saddle as though about to fall. I turned my horse
and galloped back with all haste to his side and got there in
time to catch him as he was falling. I lifted him onto my horse
in front of me and succeeded in getting him safely to the Fort.
Capt. Egan on recovering, laughingly said: ``I name you Calamity
Jane, the heroine of the plains.''
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"The road along the creek is a narrow rocky path near the
borders of very high precipices, from which a fall seems almost
inevitable destruction. One of our horses slipped and rolled over
with his load down the hillside, which was nearly perpendicular
and strewed with large irregular rocks, nearly one hundred yards,
and did not stop till he fell into the creek. We all expected
he was killed, but to our astonishment, on taking off his load
he rose, seemed but little injured, and in twenty minutes proceeded
with his load. Having no other provision, we took some portable
soup, our only refreshment during the day. This abstinence, joined
with fatigue, has a visible effect on our health. The men are
growing weak and losing their flesh very fast; several are afflicted
with dysentery, and eruptions of the skin are very common."

Next day, the party descended the last of the Bitter Root range
and reached level country. They were at last over the Great Divide.

It was in those early beaver-days that the striking class of
adventurers called "free trappers" made their appearance.
Bold, enterprising men, eager to make money, and inclined at the
same time to relish the license of a savage life, would set forth
with a few traps and a gun and a hunting knife, content at first
to venture only a short distance up the beaver streams nearest
to the settlements, and where the Indians were not likely to molest
them. There they would set their traps, while the buffalo, antelope,
deer, etc., furnished a royal supply of food. In a few months
their pack animals would be laden with thousands of dollars' worth
of fur.

Next season they would venture farther, and again farther, meanwhile
growing rapidly wilder, getting acquainted with the Indian tribes,
and usually marrying among them. Thenceforward no danger could
stay them in their exciting pursuit. Wherever there were beaver
they would go, however far or wild,--the wilder the better, provided
their scalps could be saved. Oftentimes they were compelled to
set their traps and visit them by night and lie hid during the
day, when operating in the neighborhood of hostile Indians. Not
then venturing to make a fire or shoot game, they lived on the
raw flesh of the beaver, perhaps seasoned with wild cresses or
berries. Then, returning to the trading stations, they would spend
their hard earnings in a few weeks of dissipation and "good
time," and go again to the bears and beavers, until at length
a bullet or arrow would end all...
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The Virginian's pistol came out, and his hand lay
on the table, holding it unaimed. And with a voice as gentle as
ever, the voice that sounded almost like a caress, but drawling
a very little more than usual, so that there was almost a space
between each word, he issued his orders to the man Trampas: "When
you call me that, SMILE." And he looked at Trampas across
the table.

The snow lies there - ro-rani!
The snow lies there - ro-rani!
The snow lies there - ro-rani!
The snow lies there - ro-rani!
The Milky Way lies there.
The Milky Way lies there.

This is one of the favorite songs of the Paiute
Ghost dance. . . . It must be remembered that the dance is
held in the open air at night, with the stars shining down
on the wide-extending plain walled in by the giant Sierras,
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